Mitsotakis noose on Greek Democracy by Melina Barnett

In a move that feels less like governance and more like an underworld novel, Kyriakos Mitsotakis has once again confirmed what many Greeks know for years: justice in Greece is not blind, it’s been muzzled, shackled, and handed a script. The recent appointment of Vasilis Floridis as president of the Greek Supreme Court is not just business as usual. It’s the latest, most cynical play in a long-standing pattern of cronyism, judicial manipulation, and authoritarian drift masquerading as European democracy.

Let’s set the scene. As the European Commission and the European Public Prosecutor's Office (EPPO) ramp up investigations into the alleged large-scale misuse of EU agricultural funds, funds meant to support farmers, rural communities, and sustainable development, who should find themselves in the crosshairs? Not just random bureaucrats or minor party functionaries, but key ministers, politicians, and inner-circle operatives tied directly to Mitsotakis' administration. The word on the cobbled streets of Brussels and Athens alike is simple: this stinks all the way up to the top.

And yet, as the heat rises, Mitsotakis doesn’t blink. He doubles down. Instead of stepping aside, showing transparency, or allowing the justice system to do its work free from influence, he pulls his boldest trick yet: appointing Vasilis Floridis, brother of current Justice Minister Giorgos Floridis and an unquestioned loyalist, as the new president of the Supreme Court. The same Vasilis Floridis whose reputation as a legal ‘yes-man’ precedes him, who has spent the last six years helping put out fires for the administration and brushing scandals under institutional rugs.

This is not coincidence. This is not meritocracy. This is orchestrated capture of the judicial branch by an increasingly emboldened executive power.

Make no mistake, Floridis' appointment is symbolic. It is a neon sign flashing “regime loyalty above constitutional integrity.” It tells every prosecutor, every judge, every journalist, and every EU auditor exactly what kind of justice system they’re up against: one where the lines between the ruling party and the courts have been dangerously blurred.

How can the people of Greece trust any investigation into corruption or abuse of EU funds when the man at the top of the judiciary is not only a political appointee, but the sibling of the Minister of Justice and a known close ally of the very Prime Minister under fire?

This isn't just ethically compromised, it's structurally grotesque. In most functioning democracies, this level of nepotism would trigger parliamentary inquiries, media firestorms, perhaps even resignations. In Mitsotakis’ Greece, it barely makes a ripple in mainstream coverage. Why? Because the erosion of accountability has become so normalized, so routine, that it now slips under the radar as “politics as usual.”

And where is the European Union in all this? Yes, the EPPO is probing. Yes, there are whispers of legal consequences. But Brussels has long played a schizophrenic game with Greece: proud to tout it as a “recovery success story” while nervously tiptoeing around its increasingly autocratic tendencies. They did the same with Hungary. With Poland. Now it’s Greece’s turn in the spotlight and the question is whether the EU will act or simply issue sternly worded statements while democracy erodes one institution at a time.

The irony is rich. The same EU that lectures on rule of law and transparency now watches one of its own member states undermine its judiciary at the exact moment that body is supposed to be investigating top-level fraud involving their funds.

At its core, this isn’t just about Floridis, or even Mitsotakis. It’s about the betrayal of a public that has endured austerity, sacrificed sovereignty, and placed faith, however reluctantly, in the institutions of European democracy. What message does this appointment send to ordinary Greeks who still believe in fairness, in judicial independence, in some faint glimmer of justice?

It tells them that the game is rigged. That if you steal millions from European taxpayers and grease the right palms, you get protection, not prosecution. That your brother can hand you the keys to the nation’s highest court, and no one will stop you. That the prime minister doesn’t fear the law, because he owns the law.

The danger here is not just today’s scandal. It’s the precedent it sets for tomorrow. If Mitsotakis can get away with this now, what’s to stop the next prime minister from going even further? The fusion of executive power and judicial obedience is the hallmark of authoritarian states, not modern democracies. Greece, cradle of democracy, no less, should be the first to raise the alarm, not the last.

But hope is not dead. Civil society remains resilient. Independent journalists, judges with spines, and watchdog groups are watching. And the EU, if it still values its principles over its PR, must act decisively, not just with investigations, but with funding leverage and political consequences.

Otherwise, we are not looking at the slow decline of democratic norms in Greece. We are looking at their funeral. Let’s call it what it is. This isn’t a judiciary. It’s a shield for the powerful. And the Greek people deserve far, far better.